Just What the Doctor Ordered
by EvaRose
Summary: I've read many stories where Cameron gets hurt and House helps her. Well what if the shoe was on the other foot
1. Chapter 1

Title: Patience of Love

Author: EvaRose

Rating: R (I think) for language and violence. No sex (yet)

Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing

Feedback: Yes Please :D

Beta: veronicca05

"People… dismiss me. Because I'm a woman, because I'm pretty, because I'm not aggressive. My opinions shouldn't be rejected just because they don't like me."

House noticed how she rolled her eye when she said she was pretty, almost as if she felt guilty about her genetics. She couldn't help it that she was beautiful. It must really have struck a nerve when he had told her he had only hired her for her looks. So he decided to take pity on her.

"They like you. Everyone likes you." Considering the conversation over he started to walk away.

"Do you?" Cameron asked timidly

When she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper, but to House those two, simple words seemed to echo loudly in his head and in his heart. Composing himself he slowly turned to regard her with his icy blue gaze, but he seemed unable to speak.

Cameron met his gaze unwaveringly, she had gone this far and she wasn't about to leave without an answer. She took a few hesitant steps toward him, "I have to know."

"No," was his only response, never looking away from her wide, hopeful eyes.

She refused to let him see how badly that one word affected her. She searched his eyes, hoping to find a different truth in their crystal depths cut he had locked all his emotions away and there was nothing there for her to read. So bracing herself against the tears she gave him a tight-lipped smile and quietly said, "Okay," before walking away.

House watched the stiff line of her back until she was out of sight. _Good_, he thought, _Nip this silly crush in the butt before it gets out of control._ He refused to listen to the part of his brain that just wanted to kick him in the ass for being such a fool.

"You actually told her you didn't like her?"

"Technically all I said was 'No'" House answered, taking a sip of his scotch. It had been a long stressful day, with Cameron's question only serving to make it worse. He had asked Wilson out for drinks after work and here they now were discussing who liked who like a couple of pubescent teens giggling over their soda pop.

"That's kinda mean, even for you," Wilson said, shaking his head.

"Well what was I supposed to do? She was looking at me with those big innocent, doe eyes of hers expecting me to get down on my knees and declare my undying love for her." House snarked.

"She knows you can't get down on you knees." Wilson deadpanned. House just glared at him but Wilson was unfazed "You could have just said you liked her as a friend or a colleague. Or you could have done the famous Greg House avoidance routine. You didn't have to crush her." He couldn't help but feel sorry for the naïve young woman.

House's only response was to grunt and take another drink. They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks, then Wilson looked over at House and said "SO?"

House looked at him, eyebrow raised "So what?"

"So… do you like her?" Wilson answered with a boyish grin.

"Ack… come on, what are we, in high school?"

"Greg likes Allison," Wilson said in a singsong voice.

"I don't like anyone." House answered pointedly giving him a full throttle glare.

"Now there's that avoidance routine I was talking about. Which can only mean one thing. Oh My God," he said when the full realization hit him, "You DO like her." He was laughing now. "Oh man you're in trouble."

"Either shut up or leave before I beat you down with my cane!"

This only made Wilson laugh harder, "You're in BIG trouble!"

House grabbed his cane and raised it above his head, ready to strike.

"Whoa there Pep Squad," Wilson jumped up from his stool with his hands raised still laughing, "I gotta go anyway. The wife was expecting me an hour ago." And with that he finish his beer and left the bar still chuckling to himself.

House ordered another drink and after the bartender set it down in front of him he downed it in one swallow trying to quiet the raging emotions he would never admit to having. Not even to Wilson. "I don't like anyone." He repeated to himself. Crap. Who was he kidding?

Cameron walked into the bar with Forman. Taking in the smoky, crowded atmosphere she thought to herself _This is just what the doctor ordered. I just need to pound back a few drinks and forget all about that stupid conversation I had with House._

She had been in the lab running tests on their latest patient and berating herself for her stupid and juvenile behavior when Forman had found her and asked her if she wanted to go out for drinks after shift. She had jumped at the opportunity.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, then I'll grab us a couple beers," Forman said to Cameron, leaning in close so she could hear him over the din. "Why don't you try and find us a table?" Cameron just nodded as he headed toward the back where the restrooms were located.

Amazingly it only took a moment to find an empty table, which she procured and sat down to people watch until Forman returned with their beers. A moment later a Corona was set down in front of her, "Wow that was fast. I thought you'd be gone…" when she looked up it wasn't Forman she saw but a tall man in his early thirties who obviously had had too much to drink.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing sitting all alone?" he asked her, sitting down in the chair opposite her like he owned it.

Cameron just rolled her eyes. She had seen this type a thousand times before. A regular night club junkie who roamed from bar to bar looking for nothing but another notch in his bedpost, who brought with him a multitude of STD's and self loathing to any woman gullible enough to fall victim to his questionable charms.

"Thank you," she smiled politely and pushed the untouched beer towards him, "but I'm here with someone. He just went up to the bar to get us drinks."

As if he hadn't heard a word she had said, he moved his chair closer to her so that his body was mere inches away from hers. "My name is Allen. What's yours beautiful?"

His breath smelled like his mouth had never met the business end of a toothbrush. She scrunched up her nose and instinctively put her hand on his chest to push him away. "Look **Allen**," emphasizing his name to get his attention. "I'm really not interested. My boyfriend will be back any minute so you better just leave." She hoped the word "boyfriend" would be enough to deter him. No such luck.

He leaned in even closer putting his hand on her thigh, "Come on baby, you know you want me."

"What I want is to not be manhandled by an over grown baboon." Cameron got out of her chair. She figured she would just leave and meet Forman at the bar. They'd just stand if they couldn't find another table, but he was quick for a drunk and grabbed her wrist hard. "You really don't want to leave now, do you baby?"

Cameron started to struggle, "Let go of me you pig!" She said pounding on his chest with her free hand but he was a big guy and she was no match for him in strength. He leaned in to kiss her on the lips but she was able to turn her head just in time and his wet lips schlepped on her cheek. She struggled harder, gagging over the putrid stench of him.

Suddenly there was a large hand on Allen's shoulder and he was physically pulled off of her. "Cameron. I leave you alone for one minute and you're already hitting on someone else."

Cameron's head shot up when she heard the ice-cold voice of her boss. It was a voice that she was very familiar with. She even heard it in her dreams but she had never heard it sound quite that…dangerous.

"What, **YOU'RE** the boyfriend?" Allen cried incredulously, "You're old enough to be her father. And you're a fucking gimp!" he said noticing the cane. "Why don't you go back to the old folks home and leave herto me."

She couldn't help but notice the twitch in his jaw; a sure sign that he was biting back some sarcastic comment that would only get him into trouble. Never taking his eyes off of her and completely ignoring the belligerent drunk, he held his hand out to her, "Come on **sweetie**. You've been a naughty little girl and now daddy needs to take you home and punish you."

Cameron couldn't help the blush his words caused but didn't hesitate to walk toward him. But for the second time Allen grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. "She's not going anywhere with you pops," he said pulling an eight-inch stiletto switchblade out of his pocket and waving it in House's face.

"You know you really shouldn't play with sharp things. Someone could lose an eye," House quipped shifting all his weight onto his good left leg.

"That's not all you're gonna lose if you don't get out of here."

"Allen please, there's no need for this," Cameron gently put her hand on his arm in an effort to calm him. She knew House wouldn't stand a chance against the much larger and younger man.

"Shut up Bitch!" Allen said looking over his shoulder at her and shrugging her off. This was all House needed to make his move. He was surprisingly fast for a cripple as he raised his cane and brought it down on the arm holding the knife. Unfortunately though, Allen had had even more to drink than Cameron realized because he barely seemed to feel the impact and he never lost his hold of his weapon.

"Is that all you got grandpa?" Allen asked, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Why don't you bring it on Sonny, and find out?" Most people would have been terrified by the deadly glare in House's cobalt blue eyes, but Allen didn't seem to even notice.

"House no!" This time Cameron practically launched herself at Allen and grabbed the arm holding the blade. "Please, stop this." Allen, never taking his eyes off of House, pushed her so hard that she went flying into the table behind her.

House watched her hit the floor and he saw red. He lunged at the bastard who dared to lay a hand on his Dr. Cameron. Unfortunately his leg chose that moment to give him a jolt of pain causing him to stagger to the right. Allen took the opportunity to plunge his knife deep into House's gut.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Just What the Doctor Ordered (Thanx T)

Author: Chan

Rating: PG-13 to R

Spoilers: anything up to "Three Stories"

Disclaimer: All together now Fox and David Shore own everything. I'm just borrowing.

Feedback: Any and all advice appreciated

From the moment that she hit the floor everything seemed to go in slow motion. The wind had been knocked out of her and as she struggled to sit up Forman appeared at her side, putting an arm around her for support. "Cameron! What the hell is going on?"

"House," she gasped, pointing in their boss's direction, "Help House!"

And that's when it happened.

As Cameron watched in horror, House bellowed in pure rage and leaped at the guy with the knife only to be hampered by his damn leg.

"HOUSE!" Cameron screamed. But it was too late. Neither she nor Forman could do anything but watch as he lost his balance and literally fell onto the blade.

Somehow Cameron reached him first and supported his body as he slid to the floor. She immediately put her hand over the spreading red stain on his abdomen, applying as much pressure as possible.

"Someone call 911!"

She never took he eyes off of the man cradled in her arms. His eyes were shut and his face had a gray pallor to it. Despite the pressure she was applying to the wound, his blood continued to spill through her fingers.

"House, look at me!" Cameron commanded, her voice catching in her throat. "House! Ho…GREG, LOOK AT ME!" At the sound of his first name his eyes slowly fluttered open and met her frightened gaze.

"I think someone made a mistake. Shouldn't I be surrounded by fire and brimstone not beautiful heavenly angels?" His voice was so soft that she had to lean in close to hear him.

"House, you're going to be fine. You're not going to die. I won't let you." Cameron promised, the tears falling from her cheeks onto his.

"You women… always trying to…save me," he whispered just before loosing consciousness.

"Cameron." Forman pushed his way through the gathered crowed of onlookers and knelt down beside his prostrate boss. "The ambulance will be here any minute. How is he?"

"There is so much blood, Eric," was all Cameron could say. The shock of seeing the man she had feelings for, in this position, out weighed her medical skill.

"Probably got the spleen. Just keep on the pressure," Forman said, grabbing Houses wrist. "Pulse is weak and thready. Where the hell are the EMTs!"

"Coming through! Out of the way! What do we have here?" said a burly EMT as he and his partner pushed their stretcher through the wave of people.

Forman, all business, rattled off the stats, "Male, mid-40's. Stab wound to upper left quadrant. Massive blood loss. Knife probably hit the spleen. Pulse is weak. Victim is probably drunk and is definitely stoned of Vicodin." The EMT cocked an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything as he joined his partner beside the fallen victim.

As the two men busied themselves stabilizing him Cameron looked down at his pallid face and refused to leave his side.

You can't leave me House.

"Pressure is 50/40 and falling."

I already held a man I loved while he died. I won't do it again.

"He's bleeding out"

I know you said you didn't like me but I don't believe you.

"Breath sounds are weak and shallow. Bag him."

Everybody lies, right.

"Start a saline IV."

Lie to me all you want but you have to live.

"Okay, lets get him on the stretcher. Miss you'll have to move."

Let me be your reason to live.

"Miss."

"Come on Cam." Forman gently put his hands on her shoulders and lifted her to her feet.

"I'm not leaving him." Cameron cried, snapping out of her reverie. "He's my…" everything "…boss."

"Sorry Miss, no room on the bus. Where taking him to Princeton Plainsboro," he said as they wheeled House past her toward the entrance.

Before she could argue Forman's hands were once again on her shoulder. "Come on Cam I'll drive. Don't worry, he's going to be fine."

Dr. Cuddy was waiting for them when Cameron came racing through the emergency doors of PPTH with Forman fast on her heels.

"Dr. Cuddy! House, how is he. Is he alright?" she asked, out of breath.

"They just took him up to surgery a moment ago," she said as she led them towards the elevators. . "How are you? Are you injured?" She glanced down at Cameron's blood soaked clothing with concern.

"No I'm unhurt." Cameron glanced down at herself and noticed the blood for the first time. "Oh God," All of a sudden the room started to spin and darkness seemed to close in on her field of vision.

Forman, who had been her constant source of strength all night, quickly reached out to steady her. "It's ok Cam. You're just in shock. Take some deep breaths. It's all right, I've got you."

"Here Allison, drink this." Cuddy offered her a plastic cup of water she had gotten from the nearby water cooler.

She accepted the water gratefully and after some fortifying breaths, she was able to get her equilibrium back.

"Better?" Forman asked.

Cameron nodded and gave him a weak smile.

Just then the elevator arrived and Cuddy ushered the two young doctors in, away from prying eyes. "Allison why don't you go to your office and get cleaned up. Put on a pair of scrubs. House will be in surgery for a while so there is nothing you can do right now."

Cameron opened her mouth to argue but, Cuddy cut her off gently, "I called Wilson, he's on his way here. You don't want him to see you covered in House's blood."

"Oh Wilson," Cameron cried, alarmed, "I should have called him."

"It's all right Allison, I took care of it." Cuddy smiled at her reassuringly.

"Thank you Dr. Cuddy," she couldn't hide the hitch in her voice, "and your right this will be hard enough for Wilson, he shouldn't have to see me…" gazing at her dry blood caked hands, "…like this."

They all knew that House and Wilson were close friends but only Cuddy knew how deep that friendship ran. She had witnessed him during the weeks after House's infarction. He had been there day and night, taking time off work so he could be there for him. Even after Stacy left, Wilson had been there, supplying House with an outlet for his anger and abuse. He'd placed a heavy burden on himself, doing everything in his power to make things a little easier and help alleviate his friend's constant pain and anguish.

During one of the brief periods that he had actually left House's bedside, Cuddy had found him in an empty clinic room, crying. She had held the younger man while he grieved, not saying a word, and when he was finished she had left as quietly as she had entered. They never spoke of it.

"Do you need me to come with you Allison?" she asked.

"No, go check on him. I'll meet you there after I change."

"Ok then. He's in Surgery Bay 1 with Dr. Smyth," and looking Cameron right in the eye she added, "He's going to be fine."

Nodding but unable to speak past the lump in her throat Cameron turned and walked toward the staff locker room.

Forman and Cuddy watched her walk away.

"She really cares about him," Cuddy remarked, half question, half statement.

"Yeah, more than I think even she realized until tonight," Forman answered. Shaking his head, he followed after Cuddy to check on his boss's progress in surgery.


	3. Chapter 3

**house-of-insanity: I love cliff-hangers. Make me feel all powerful.:D**

**Randa05: I love the story you're doing right now "Playing Game" so your comment means a lot. Thanks. Umm but don't hold your breath to long, you might pass out and I need you to write more of your fic.**

**Phantaz-magoria: I'm all about the angst (and the smut as you ****mightget to see later).**

**runs with sissors: All the squickiness is done after this chapter.**

**To everyone else who commented; thanks so much your kind words really encourage me to continue.**

Spoilers: Anything up to "Three Stories" but pretty AU

Rating: T

Disclamer: David Shore and Fox Co. still won't let me have him. So I'm just borrowing. Please don't sue.

Beta: veronicca05

Feedback: Always

"We really need to speak with Dr. Cameron, to get her version of the events." Two Police Officers were in the surgery waiting room talking to Dr. Forman. Dr. Cuddy had called them as soon as she heard that House had been stabbed in a bar fight.

"Look Officer Barrie, I don't know if that is such a good idea," Forman was trying to keep a detached, professional attitude but he had never been comfortable around cops, not since his arrest for B&E when he was a kid. "She's in shock and someone she cares about is in surgery right now fighting for his life."

"I understand that Dr. Forman, but its important that we talk to her while the incident is still fresh in her memory. The faster we get all the information the better chance we have of apprehending the suspect."

"It's alright Eric. **I'm** alright." Cameron walked into the room and gently put her hand on his arm, giving it a squeeze to let him know that she really was ok. "I'd be happy to talk to you Officer…?"

"Barrie."

"Officer Barrie, just as soon as I get a progress report on Dr. House's condition."

Nodding the two officers walked away to give them some privacy.

"Any word?"

Forman looked at her, taking in her clean scrubs and her freshly washed hands and face. He couldn't help noticing that her eyes were red and puffy, evidence that she had been crying, but when he looked into their blue depths he saw that the shock had subsided and had been replaced by the strong, quiet, strength that the Dr Allison Cameron he knew and love always seemed to exude. He decided then that she deserved to know the truth.

"They had to give him massive amounts of blood just to get his pressure stable enough so he'd survive surgery. But they got him in there now with Dr. Smyth. He's performing a laparotomy to try and repair the damage but he might have to remove the spleen if he can't. Dr. Cuddy is in with him observing the procedure and will report to us as soon as they know anything else."

Cameron sighed, visibly relieved, "Dr. Smyth is one of the best. He's going to be fine."

Forman pulled her into a comforting embrace. "Don't worry. He'll be back to his bitching, whining, pill popping self in no time. The nurses in the trauma unit will probably be fighting each other, trying to cash in their vacation time first thing in the morning, so they won't have to care for him while he recovers."

She couldn't help but smile at this.

"You're smiling so he must be ok."

"Wilson." Pulling away from Forman she walked over to the obviously distressed and disheveled Wilson and gave him a hug. "He's not out of the woods yet," she said pulling back to look him in the eye, "but he's got Dr. Smyth working on him and Dr. Cuddy's in there with him. He'll be ok."

Forman gave him a manly, reassuring pat on the back, "Yeah, you know she'll pull him through this. She has to much fun getting him to submit to her authority."

Wilson gave a slight chuckle of agreement. "I'm just glad you two were there for him."

Cameron pulled back and looked down at the ground, guiltily. "It was my fault he got hurt."

"Hey, it wasn't you fault that guy decided to assault you and then pull a knife on House. I just wish I had gotten there in time. I would have liked to see him try that shit on me." Forman, always the protective big brother.

"The guy assaulted you?" Wilson grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arms length, looking her over from head to toe. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. House stopped him before he had a chance to do any real damage."

Wilson relaxed and released her from his bruising grip. "Did they get the bastard?".

Forman shook his head, "Nah, he took off like a like someone had lit a fire under him and I lost him in the crowd. Dammed coward."

"I shouldn't have left him alone." Wilson's hand automatically started to rub at the back of his neck while he seemed to examine his shoes, remembering how he had mercilessly teased his friend. "He was in quite a mood."

"That was probably my fault too."

His head shot up and looked at her knowingly, "Don't blame yourself Allison. He's the one with the inability to express his feelings like an adult."

"It's nobody's fault," Forman added, slightly confused, "except the guy's with the knife."

"Speaking of which," Officer Barrie walked up to them and cleared his throat politely, "I'm sorry to interrupt but, Dr. Cameron, we really need to get your statement."

"Of course. I'm sorry. I'll be back as soon as I'm done," she said turning back to her two friends. "Come get me if you hear anything?"

Forman and Wilson nodded in agreement while the officer ushered her away.

Officer Barrie handed her his card and made her promise to call him at any hour, if she remembered anything else. She gave him her word and rushed back to the waiting room. When she got there she found Foreman and Wilson, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Nothing yet?" she said sitting down in the vacant chair between them.

Wilson blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "No, nothing."

She joined them in their silence for a few minutes when Forman pushed himself to his feet, "I need caffeine. You want some?" They nodded their appreciation.

Wilson watched him leave and then broke the silence. "He told me."

Cameron looked at him questionly.

"At the bar. He said he'd had a crappy day and needed to go out for a drink. Julie was waiting for me so I new should have said no I can never deny Greg anything." He had a wistful expression on his face and Cameron could have sworn she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes. "He told me about your conversation earlier today." He said, clarifying his original statement.

"He did?" More of a statement than a question. She knew what conversation he was referring to.

"He regretted what he said."

"He actually told you that?" Cameron asked disbelieving.

"Well…not exactly."

Giving a mirthless little laugh she sat back in her chair getting more comfortable, "That's what I thought."

"Oh come on Cameron," he turned so he was looking directly at her. "You know him well enough to know that little philosophy of his, 'everybody lies' applies to him as well. He said he didn't like you because it was the only thing he could say. He is the most emotionally stunted person I have ever known. He was the same way even before his leg." He leaned in closer to her, resting his hand on her knee, getting her full attention, "He likes you Allison. He just can't admit it to himself, let alone to you. When a 13 year old boy likes a girl he pulls her hair and says she has cooties. Well, emotionally Greg isn't much above a 13 year old."

Cameron smiled at him and squeezed the hand resting on her knee affectionately. "Right now all that matters is that House gets better. I don't have the energy to worry about anything else right now." She paused and smiled at him. "But thanks, I won't forget what you said." He nodded at her in understanding

Forman choose that moment to return with their coffees, which they accepted gratefully. Cameron took a sip of her coffee and turned back to Wilson. "I really hope House knows how lucky he his is to have a friend like you. I know I am."

"That goes both ways," he replied with a shy smile.

They all returned to their own thought and their coffee.

It was a very long night. At some point Cameron had fallen asleep with her head pillowed in Wilson's lap. Forman had gone home to get some sleep because he had clinic duty first thing in the morning. So Wilson was the only one awake when the surgeon, Dr. Smyth, had come out to tell them that the surgery had gone well. He had had to remove House's spleen but he expected him to make a full recovery. Wilson had gone up to ICU with Cameron to reassure himself that his best friend really was going to be ok. He had then gone back home to his wife to get some sleep of his own.

That had be hours ago and Cameron was still sitting at his bed side watching the comforting rise and fall of his chest and listening to all the beeps of the machines that told her his heart was still beating strongly. The sun had come up and the nurses, who had just started their shifts, went about their rounds checking his vitals and making sure all the monitors were working properly. They all glanced at her sitting there but none dared to question her.

She knew she was being silly but she couldn't seem to tear herself away. She knew that, barring any post-op complications; he was going to be just fine. But he had gotten stabbed because of her and she couldn't help feeling responsible. She knew he wouldn't see it that way. In fact he would probably be angry that she was there, seeing him so vulnerable. He was a proud man. For all that he joked about being a cripple and despite his belief that he was damaged, he hated people to see him as weak and helpless. Nothing upset him more than pity. It was one of the reasons why he'd honed his sarcasm and insults to razor sharp perfection, so he could strike people down before they ever had a chance to pity him.

Cameron was shaken out of her reverie by a low moaning coming from the bed. She jumped to her feet and gently grabbed his hand. "House?" She brushed her hand over his forehead noting that it was cool and dry. Good, no sign of infection.

"Mmph." House tossed his head but whether he was fighting toward consciousness or away from it, Cameron wasn't sure.

"House," this time, when she spoke she cupped his stubbled cheek to try to get him to focus. "House, you're in the hospital. You were hurt but you're going to be all right. House open your eyes and look at me."

"Stacey?" he mumbled, still refusing to open his eyes.

She shouldn't be upset. People coming out of anesthesia were often confused. He was probably remembering the last time he was in the hospital with the infarction. But she couldn't help the little twist of pain in her gut.

"Umm, no it's…"

"It's Dr. Cameron, Greg. Stacey isn't here." Wilson walked in the room saving Cameron from an uncomfortable explanation.

Hearing his friends voice he opened his eyes. Blinking a couple times to clear his vision he looked up at Wilson gave a little groan.

"God, now I know I'm in hell."

"If you were in hell then Stacey really would be here." Wilson said with a small smile. "As it is, we have are resident angel here."

House looked over at Cameron, making direct eye contact, but didn't say anything instead he refocused on Wilson. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

He closed his eyes, trying to recall his last memory. "Bar. Drinking. Threatening to hit you with my cane." This earned him a chuckle. "Big drunk guy with big knife. Must have been overcompensating for something." He opened his eyes and smirked, tiredly at Cameron. "And you hovering over me."

"You saved me from that guy. It was very brave."

House looked away, uncomfortable with the compliment.

"But it was also very stupid," she continued, "You could have been killed."

He sighed wearily, "Yeah, apparently my suit of armor isn't only dented and rusty but it doesn't seem to keep out sharp, pointy objects either."

Just then he seemed to notice for the first time that she was clutching his hand. He looked pointedly from their hands up to her face. They shared a look but surprisingly he didn't pull away. Must be some good drugs they have me on. Cameron blushed, sweetly but she didn't let go either.

"Ummm, yeah…" Wilson felt the need to break the tension that had suddenly filled the room. "…so you lost an awful lot blood and you coded once in the ambulance." He glanced at Cameron who had gone ridged when she heard this. "Apparently no one told you."

"No," she said, regaining her composure.

"Don't worry, I've died before. I don't seem to be that easy to get rid of."

It was meant as a joke but knowing him as well as he did, Wilson could hear the fear behind the words. He decided to let it go for now.

"The knife perforated your spleen so Dr. Smyth had to perform a splenectomy."

"At least it wasn't Hourani. I'd be dead for sure. That guy couldn't operate his way out of a paper bag."

"Right, well I should have a quick look see at those stitches and check your vitals."

This time House did remove his hand from Cameron's. And she noticed him shift in his bed uncomfortably. She understood.

"And I should go check in with the boys. Make sure they aren't at each other's throats. If there aren't any new patients I think I'll just go home and get some sleep. I'll check in on you tonight," she added smiling down at House.

He continued to look at the door after she had left, frowning. "She was here all night?"

"All night," Wilson added, hiding a little smile behind House's medical chart.

**A/N: I did only a minimal amout of medical research for this story so please try to overlook any huge errors. I did realize after I wrote this that if a doctor had his spleen removed then he probably wouldn't be able to continue working in the medical field. You don't need your spleen to live but one of its functions as I understand it is to help fight diseases. So anyone out there in the medical field; sorry.**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Just What the Doctor Ordered -- Chapter 4**_

Here's the next installment. Enjoy :D

Summary: House recovering from being stabbed

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: AU but reference to anything from first season is fair game.

Beta: **veronicca05**

Feedback: I thrive on it.

Disclaimer: When I succeed in my plot to take over the world House will be mine, all mine. MUAHAHAHAAA ahem Until then David Shore, Brian Singer an Fox hold all the rights.

Chapter 4 ?xml:namespace prefix o ns "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" / 

Days passed. Physically House's body started to heal but emotionally he was even more withdrawn and irritable than usual. His humor-laced sarcasm was totally absent, in its place could be found either a weary rage or simply complete apathy. He refused to listen to anyone about his post-surgery care trying, with the aid of his cane, to get out of bed before his doctors had okayed it. His efforts were met by a jarring impact with the cold, bleached floor. Afterwards Wilson had put his cane out of his reach so he wouldn't be tempted to try it again.

Forman had dropped by once but refused to return after House had thrown a cup of water in his face and the nurses only enter when they absolutely had to. Even his two regular visitors, Dr.'s Cameron and Wilson were finding it more and more difficult to find reasons to keep returning day after day.

That first night Cameron had returned with some of House's favorite things, his Gameboy, his iPod and the most recent copy of Sports Illustrated's Swimsuit Issue. He hadn't commented or thanked her or even acknowledged her presence. When she had tried engaging in small talk he had closed his eyes and pretended to sleep until she had left.

Wilson hadn't fared much better. He had come baring a bag full of lollipops and House's laptop. He could use it to do research or look at Internet porn. "I have some sites bookmarked already," Wilson had informed him. All he got for his efforts of levity was a request for more painkillers.

On the day he was to be released from the hospital Cameron went to Dr. Wilson's office and gently knocked on the door before peeking her head in. "Got a minute?"

Wilson was busy shuffling papers around on his desk, unable to concentrate, and was happy for the distraction. "Yes of course Allison. Come in."

She entered, closing the door behind her, and took a seat in one of the two other chairs in the room. She sat there silently for a few moments, looking everywhere but at Wilson.

"Is everything alright Allison?"

"I guess you know that House is being released later today," she said, ignoring his question.

"Yeah, Nurse Hendricks invited me to the party the 4th floor nurses station is having to celebrate."

Cameron chuckled and shook her head, "I know doctors make the worst patients but he's been a complete horse's ass." When he just quirked an eyebrow at her she shrugged her shoulders and added, "More so than normal."

Wilson sighed and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "I know. I've only seen him this bad once before."

"After the infarction." When he looked up at her she saw the now familiar pained expression.

Over the course of House's hospitalization the two of them had forged the beginnings of a close friendship. Most evenings, after House had all but thrown them out of his room, they would go out for dinner or Wilson would come up to her apartment, where they would polish off a bottle of wine or two. They would just talk, about anything really but mostly about the misanthropic doctor. Actually, Wilson did most of the talking and she would listen hoping to gain some insight that would help her get through to him. One night she had asked and he had told her, in heartbreaking detail, about the injury to his leg and the sordid aftermath of Stacey's betrayal and desertion. It helped her to understand why he constantly pushed everyone away.

"I tried talking to him about it earlier this morning. I even went so far as to offer to get the resident shrink to come down and visit him."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "Your are probably the only person who could suggest such a thing to him and come out of it alive."

"Well, the fact that he is lying in a hospital bed unable to get up helped." He winced painfully and rubbed at his shoulder, "But I still got the Gameboy shaped bruise from where he threw it at me."

"He's definitely has good aim," she laughed

"Tell me about it," he grumbled, "he could probably pitch for the Red Sox with that arm of his."

Cameron laughed some more but quickly sobered when she remembered her real reason for visiting Wilson's office.

"So umm... here's the thing, what would you think if I were to stay with him for a while. Just until he's back on track and we know he can take care of himself" she finished quickly before he could get over his initial shock.

"Allison, I really don't think that's a very good idea. I…."

"Look James, I'm worried about him. What with his leg and the wound in his abdomen, he can barely walk. He's going to need help just getting around. And you know that any home health aid worker we could find wouldn't last 5 minutes alone in a room with him."

"Alli…" He tried to interrupt but she wasn't finished.

"What do you think he'll do if he's left on his own? He'll pop Vicodin one after the other, he'll drink himself into a stupor every night, he won't eat. James, he'll end up killing himself." Tears had started to form in her eyes as she spoke but she brushed them away angrily with the back of her hand.

Wilson picked up a file from his desk and started to fiddle with it. What she was suggesting would only lead to someone getting hurt. And of course he would be the one left to pick up the pieces. But how could he convince her of that. Breathing a deep sigh he tossed the file back on his desk and leaned back, studying her closely.

"There's no way he'll agree to this."

"I won't give him a choice."

Seeing the stubborn set of her jaw he knew that this was a battle he wasn't going to win but he had to keep trying. "You'll get the full brunt of his anger. He'll throw everything he has at you."

"I can handle anything he's got. I think I've proven that."

"He'll make you hate him." He said this so quietly that she barely heard him.

"Do you hate him?" she asked, just as quiet.

He didn't answer her right away, instead looking down at his folded hands. When he finally looked back up at her it was with an unreadable expression, "Sometimes I do Allison, but I love him even more."

"Well so do I."

"Home sweet home." Using Wilson's spare key, Cameron unlocked the door to House's apartment, and held it open while he helped him over the threshold. They went straight to House's favorite chair where he sat with an audible sigh of relief. Cameron dropped his bag by the door and found her way into the kitchen.

House followed her with his eyes but said nothing.

"How's the pain?" Wilson asked.

"I need my Vicodin," he grouched by way of an answer.

As if on cue Cameron appeared at his side with two pills and a glass of water. "Here take these. I've put some water on for tea, it will be ready in a few minutes."

He took the pills, ignoring the water and quickly dry swallowed them before casting a frown in her direction. "Make your self at home why don't you."

He watched as she looked up at Wilson and they shared a look that he couldn't read. "What, have you two been having an illicit affair in my apartment while I was lying helpless in the hospital? Jimmy, shame on you, does Julie know?"

Wilson turned his back unwilling to answer. This was Cameron's idea so she would have to be the one to tell him. He still had reservations about the whole thing.

Seeing that she wasn't going to be getting any help she squared her shoulders and looked back down at House. "Umm, well…."**_He's like an angry dog. If he senses fear he'll strike_**

"Well what? What the hell is going on?" He was almost yelling now.

**_Show no fear. Show no fear_**"Wilson and I have decided that it would be a good idea if I stayed here for a few days." She heard Wilson huff behind her but he didn't say anything.

"Oh, you and Wilson have decided have you?" He said incredulously, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline.

"You're going to need help House. I've taken it upon myself to be your home health aid until you can take care of yourself." When he didn't say anything, just continued to look at her like she'd grown a pair of horns, she gave him a bright smile and added, "Free of charge."

"Well," Wilson piped up, finally deciding to help, "you can't beat that. Those home health aids can cost a fortune."

He shot his glare up to Wilson, completely disregarding Cameron. ** _Maybe if I ignore her long enough she'll give up and leave_** "I don't need any help. I'm a big boy now and have been taking care of myself for well over 20 years now. I think I can manage, **Daddy**."

"But you've never had a stab wound to the gut before," Cameron said, refusing to be dismissed so easily.

"And whose fault would that be I wonder."

"Come on House, this isn't her fault."

"It's alright Wilson, he can blame me if it makes him feel better. It's not going to make me change my mind about staying here though."

"Last time I looked at the lease it had my name one it. So unless that has changed this is still my apartment. If I want you to leave **You. Will. Leave**." He was really starting to get angry now. He felt like he was being backed into a corner and he didn't like the feeling at all.

"Tell you what," Cameron said looking up at the ceiling and then down the hall to where the two bedrooms and the bathroom were located. "If you can make it to your room, change your clothes and get into bed without any help then I will gladly leave you alone."

He sat there for a moment looking from Cameron to Wilson and back again. **_What the hell have I done to deserve this torment?_** "Hand me my cane." He never was one to back down from a challenge. Wilson held out his cane, which was promptly snatched from his hand then he stepped back to see what would happen.

With much grunting and effort House was able to get himself to his feet. He stopped for a minute as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Cameron and Wilson stood at a distance, unmoving, but ready to jump to his aid should he start to fall. After regaining his equilibrium he took a few experimental steps. He had been up and walking in the hospital but it was much more difficult than he let on. The limp that he was forced to walk with caused the stitches in his gut to put taunt. He had to bend slightly more at the waist than he was used to so this wouldn't happen. It wasn't a comfortable gait but he somehow managed to make it to his bedroom without any help.

Once there, he sat down on the edge of his bed, breathing heavy and sweating slightly. **_I think I'll just wait for the Vicodin to kick in before I get undressed_** He sat there waiting for the numbing effect of the painkillers to start working when he was engulfed by a wave of nausea. He tried to lie back on his bed but quickly abandoned that idea when the pain in his abdomen increased. Relying heavily on his cane he pushed himself to his feet in hopes of making it to the bathroom but it was more than his abused body could take and he collapsed to the floor, vomiting.

"House!" "Greg!"

The noise had alerted the two in the living room and they were now outside his bedroom door calling out to him. The sound of his retching erased any need on their part to respect his privacy and they both barged in.

"Dammit Greg." Wilson dropped to his knees beside his friend and helped him to a sitting position. "Too bloody proud to ask for help. Do you want to pop your stitches and end up back in the hospital?"

"More like too bloody stubborn." When Cameron had seen what had happened she had ran to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cold water and a cloth as well as some paper towels to clean up the mess on the floor. She put everything down on the nightstand and after pulling down the bed sheets she gestured to Wilson, "Need help getting him up into the bed?"

House had a lean frame but he was tall with a sinewy, muscled upper body and he was no lightweight. Without waiting for an answer she leaned down and grabbed him putting his right arm over her shoulder while Wilson did the same with his left. Being very careful of his leg and his wound they managed the get him into bed.

"Get him undressed while I clean up this mess on the floor. Good thing you have hardwood floors," she muttered as she went about mopping up the spew.

When she was done she finished making the tea she had started earlier and returned to his bedroom. With Wilson's help he had gotten down to his t-shirt and boxers and when he saw her he quickly tossed the blankets over his bare legs.

Smirking slightly she set the tea down to cool and grabbed the cloth from the bowl of water. "Don't worry, it's not like you have anything under there that I haven't seen before. I am a doctor you know." She started to mop his brow and he couldn't stop the small sigh of pleasure that escaped his lips.

"Difference is you actually want to see what's under there," he said, covering up his momentary weakness.

"Yeah right, you're a real turn on right now, all pale and sweaty and smelling of vomit," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ahh, but you haven't seen how well hung I am." He looked up at her and wagged his brows with a lecherous grin. "Just ask Wilson."

"Like an elephant." He remarked with a laugh. He was a little surprised at how quickly House's mood had changed but he wasn't going to question it.

"I so don't want to know how you know this," she quipped, arching an eyebrow in Wilson's direction.

"Well, I did give him his last physical," he blushed good-naturedly.

"Riiiight," Cameron laughed. She dropped the cloth back in the bowl and passed House his tea, which he accepted with a nod.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Right now I just want to sleep. I'm tired."

"Ok, I'll make you some soup when you wake up."

"I guess this means you're not leaving."

"Nope."

"Looks like your stuck with Nurse Cameron for now," Wilson shook his head unable to believe how easily his friend acquiesced.

"Make in '**Naughty Nurse Cameron'** and you got yourself a deal."

Laughing, Cameron and Wilson left the room to let House get some much needed sleep.


	5. Author's Note

There is more of Just What the Doctor Ordered on the way. I've just moved and been real busy. I'll have an update in the next week or so I hope. Thanks for your wonderful reviews and your patience.

EvaRose


	6. Chapter 5

Finally, here's chapter 5 of Just What the Doctor ordered. Sorry it took so long I had to move so my PC was down for a while.

Rating T : for language

Feedback: Please. Does my heart good.

Disclaimer: Still working on that World Domination thing but until then not mine, don't sue.

Belligerent-road-pylon: Yeah, puking is a real ice breaker

Samantha-Fitzgerald: Thanks so much. Means a lot to know I keeping them IC

Pandora-Moo: Sorry to make you wait. I'll try not to take so long next time. Bythe way I love your user name, I call my 7 month old daugther "Missy Moo"

Randa05: I'm flattered you like my story. I like your work as well.

To everyone else who commented, my heartfelt thanks. I wouldn't continue without all your support. Now on with the show...

Chapter 5

When House woke up, the only light in his room was coming from the crack underneath the door. This was a good thing, because his head was pounding. In fact, everything was throbbing. His head, his side, and of course, his leg. He had learned early on not to move a muscle when he woke up because of the pain in his leg, which was always at its worst when he awoke. So he lay there without moving, trying to piece together the events of the last day and trying to figure out why there was still a light on in his front room.

He never left his lights on. In fact he preferred the darkness. In the darkness he didn't have to pretend to be something he wasn't. He didn't have to pretend that he wasn't in pain all the time. He didn't have to pretend that living for his work was all he needed. He didn't have to pretend he wasn't a drug addict and he didn't have to pretend that his heart wasn't weathered and scarred and barely holding together. In the darkness he could wallow in his sorrow and his self-loathing and his pain and no one noticed. No one cared. Except Wilson of course. And now Cameron.

Cameron. Damn. He groaned as it all came back to him. Cameron was the reason for the light. She was in his apartment right now, probably snooping through his stuff while she waited for him to wake up. Damn. DAMN! What the hell was he going to do? The only people he had let into his apartment in the last 5 years were Wilson and the cleaning lady. This was his sanctuary,a place where he could give into his pain and the darkness without fear of anyone seeing his weakness.

At the hospital he was constantly in control. He would cure patients, snark at everyone whether they gave him cause to or not, harass his boss (always good for a laugh) and command his ducklings to do his every bidding (well that might be stretching it a tiny bit). And he would do it all with an air of superiority and confidence put in place to mask the truth of what he was feeling.

When he was home he would pop even more Vicodin than he did at work and pour himself glass after glass of scotch to dull the physical pain, but he would let himself wallow in the emotional pain. He would sit at his piano playing Brahms or Bach or Rachmaninov and he would let his mind wander through the past. He would dwell on the **'****what if's** and the **'****what might have been's**. Most of the timehis ruminations involved Stacy and the infarction. But lately, Cameron had been making cameo appearances in his daydreams, baffling him and making him question himself, something he absolutely hated.

Gregory House never second-guessed himself. He made a decision and that was that, he never thought about it again. But ever since the **'****date that wasn't a date,**' he had been fighting the unanticipated and entirely unwanted feelings he got every time she was around—which was all the bloody time, making it even worse. And now the object of his supreme annoyance was in his living room and she planned on staying and playing nursemaid. Damn, damn, double damn.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, he gingerly reached over to his nightstand where he always kept his extra bottle of painkillers. They weren't there. He reached around some more, but he had no luck locating them. His increasingly panicked fumbling caused the teacup he had left there to crash to the floor. The noise it made as it hit the floor and broke into a zillion pieces caused him to jerk and send renewed jolts of pain through his body.

"FUCK! Cameron, get your ass in here!" he yelled.

He heard rustling, then hurried footsteps padding down his hallway. Seconds later his door was flung open and the lights were flicked on, "You bellowed?" she asked sweetly.

"Damnit! Cameron!" The unexpected bright light pierced his eyeballs, sending needles of pain into his brain. He flung his arm over his face and growled, "Turn the bloody light off. You trying to blind me?"

Quickly turning off the light, she walked over to his nightstand, cautious of the broken glass she had seen there, and switched on his lamp. She could see the pain written all over his haggard face but she knew sympathy was not the way to go. So she chose sarcasm instead, a medium House was comfortable with.

"It's not like you need to see to do your job. You hardly see the patients as it is. And besides, if you actually went blind, Cuddy would probably let you out of clinic duty. You should be thanking me," she retorted when he cautiously removed his arm to squint up at her.

Unfortunately, he wasn't in the mood for a snark contest. "Pills. Where the hell are my pills" His voice was cold and uneven in his effort to control his pain and anger.

"Right here," she answered, pulling them out of her pocket.

He snatched the bottle out of her hand, shooting her a glare, and hurriedly popped it open to dry swallow three pills.

"Three?" she said, trying not to show her disapproval, "You usually only take two."

"Yeah well, your presence is making the pain that much more unbearable."

"And that's why I'm going to keep these with me," she said, snatching back the bottle, "so I can keep track of how many pills you are taking."

"I don't need you to keep track of my pills. And I don't need you to take care of me. In fact," he snapped, pinning her with the full force of his glare, "what I do need is for you to drop the Florence Nightingale routine and **get the hell out of my home!" **

He was yelling so loudly now she wouldn't be surprised if his neighbors called to complain. But she wasn't intimidated. He could harangue her all he wanted, **but** he wasn't going to bully her into leaving. "I'm staying," she said in a tone that brooked no argument, "You need to eat something. I'll go make you some soup. And then I'll clean up this mess," indicating the broken glass with a wave of her hand.

House watched her walk away and suddenly became aware of a heavy pressure in his lower abdomen. In his panic to get his drugs, he hadn't noticed that his bladder was alarmingly full. Now he realizedthat much to his chagrin, if he didn't get to the bathroom in the next few minutes he was going to embarrass the hell out of himself.

"Thing just keep getting better and better," he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration.

Cameron stopped just as she reached the door and turned around to see him squirming in his bed like a little boy. She had to suppress a giggle because she knew right away what his problem was, but he was being such an ass that she decided he deserved a little payback.

"What's the matter?" she asked, plastering a look of pure innocence on her face.

"I have to pee."

"What was that?" He was looking at the opposite wall and had spoken so softly that she wasn't sure she had heard him. Well, all right, she'd heard him; she was just enjoying his discomfort so much that she wanted to make him say it again.

God, he was going to make her pay for this. Using his well-practiced glower that usually sent most people running for cover, he said, "I have to pee and unless you want to see a grown man wet the bed I suggest you hand me my cane and help me to the washroom. That is why you're here isn't it, to help the crippled and infirmed old man?"

Behind his angry words she could see how deeply humiliated he really was. She immediately felt remorseful for getting so much amusement out of his discomfort. Of course this is hard for him you idiot, she chastised herself, a man like House, needing help with the most basic of bodily functions. His control has been completely taken away from him. This must be bringing back so many bad memories for him.

Without uttering a word she quickly grabbed his cane and walked around to the other side of the bed, the side that didn't have glass all over the floorSlicing his foot open was the last thing he needed.

"Do you want me to get your robe?" she asked, helping him into a sitting position.

House shook his head and threw the blankets off of his legs revealing his black cotton boxers, "I don't think I can wait that long. Besides like you said, you're a doctor. There's nothing here you haven't seen before."

He swung his legs around and Cameron let him put his left arm around her shoulder while he planted his cane on the floor with his right hand. "But Dr. House," her voice took on a breathy quality, but remained sarcastic"this is **you** we're talking about. The object of all my girlish fantasies."

Glancing up at her quickly he noticed the teasing smile that played across her lips and rolled his eyes, "Yeah well, get in line, I have that effect on all the girls."

Cameron chuckled as they braced themselves and, between the two of them, managed to get him to his feet to make the long trip around the bed and to the bathroom. She let him lean against the wall as she went in ahead of him, turning on the light and lifting the toilet seat.

When she turned back to him he was still leaning in the doorway with an odd expression on his face.

"Are you going to hold my penis too?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows lasciviously.

Cameron couldn't help the blush that crept up her face and House smirked, pleased that he had finally been able to make her uncomfortable. Seeing that smirk Cameron shot him a glare and casually moved past him brushing against his arm as she went.

"Call me when **you're** finished," she said innocently as she left in search of a broom and dustbin.

By the time House finished emptying his bladder, his Vicodin had really started to do **its** job, so he decided to take the opportunity to clean himself up a bit. Leaning his weight against the countertop he raised his right arm and sniffed, "PHEW!" he said instinctively turning his face away from the offending odor, "How the hell could she stand to be so close to me? I stink."

He pulled the shirt slowly over his head, careful of the bandage on his abdomen. He turned on the water and grabbed the cloth that was hanging in its usual spot on the rack beside the sink. When the water was warm enough he gave himself a clumsy sponge bath. His limited mobility made it impossible to be thorough but he managed the important areas.

"What I wouldn't give for a shower right now," he moaned. But he knew that wouldn't be possible for at least another couple of days so he continued with the cloth, cursing all the spots he couldn't reach. He had just loaded his toothbrush with a daub of Colgate when there was a knock on the door.

"House, are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, rolling his eyes. Apparentlythough she hadn't heard him, because the next thing he knew the door was swinging open.

"House, you oh…" Cameron pulled up abruptly, her eyes wide and her mouth in a little 'O' shape as she took in the sight before her. A shirtless House in nothing but a pair of black cotton boxers. His arms and chest were damp, causing the sparse, graying hair to lie flat. She couldn't stop her eyes from leisurely following the path of that hair as it narrowed over his flat and surprisingly taunt navel and disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. Even with the white bandage marring the picture he was still the sexiest man she had ever seen

"Take a picture, it lasts longer."

Cameron's head snapped up and she let out a gasp as a blush graced her delicate features for the second time in less than 15 minutes. He was looking directly at her, his expression unreadable. The diagnostician in him couldn't help noticing that her breath had become shallow and her eyes had dilated until the blue was almost totally eclipsed. He knew she was aroused; he just didn't know whether this pleased him or not. Before he could consider it any longer she quickly turned and he was presented with the straight line of her back.

"Sorry, you were in here so long and I didn't hear anything. I got worried," Her words came out rushed and strung together.

"S'okay. I couldn't stand my own stink any longer so I just decided to clean up a bit."

Cameron nodded but refused to turn around, "Do you think you can make it back to your bed?"

"I'm as high as a kite right now, so if I go slowly I should be ok. Unless, of course, you want another excuse to get that close to me again." The sarcasm just came so naturally, he couldn't resist.

Choosing not to respond to that, she just nodded again and started to leave the room. "I'll just go get you soup then," was all she said.

After she was gone, House stood there for a while, trying to figure out what had just happened. He knew she had a crush on him. He'd suspected it for quite some time and his suspicions had been all but confirmed during that ill-fated conversation where she'd asked him if he liked her. He'd always thought of it as nothing more than a schoolgirl infatuation with a little hero worship thrown into the mix. But the look on her face just now had been one of pure, unadulterated lust. There was nothing school-girlish about it. He had hired her because she was nice to look at, but in that moment, he had seen her as a woman**—**rather than a girl**—**for the very first time.

The part he couldn't quite understand was what the hell she saw in him. He wasn't great looking, he wasn't charming, he wasn't even nice. He especially wasn't nice to her. He'd taken every opportunity to insult her and push her away in hopes that she would get the message and just give up on him. But every time he looked at her he would see the desire and the longing in her eyes and it was all he could do to keep his body and his heart (yes he had a heart) from responding.

And now this girl**—**correction: woman**—**was all but living in his apartment and there was nowhere for him to escape. How long would he be able to resist her when she was so close? He didn't want a relationship. He didn't need a relationship.He didn't want to risk the inevitable pain that a relationship would cause. He took risks everyday on patients, but when it came to himself and to letting people get close to him, it was better to justnot make the effort. It was easier that way. No complications. No pain. No happiness.

"I'm to old for this shit," House groaned.

Giving his head a shake to clear his maudlin thoughts, he grabbed his cane and slowly hobbled back to his bedroom. When he got there, he noticed that Cameron had wheeled in his TV and DVD player and had placed them where he could easily see it from his bed. There was also a stack of his movies sitting beside it. So she was snooping around. He glanced over at his bed and saw that she had laid out a clean t-shirt for him. And she went through my drawers too. For some reason he wasn't nearly as angry as he thought he should be. Fortunately, he was too exhausted to analyze this lack of anger, so he simply slipped the tee over his head and painfully crawled back into bed.

When Cameron returned with his soup he was lying in bed with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful she wished she didn't have to disturb him. She put down the tray she was carrying and, thinking he was asleep, gently brushed her hand across his forehead.

"Something smells good," he said without opening his eyes.

Cameron jumped about a foot in the air, "Shit, House! You scared the hell out of me."

"That's what you get for assaulting a man while he sleeps." House opened his eyes and smirked at her.

"I wasn't assaulting you. I was… I was checking for fever. First sign of infection." She placed her hand back on his forehead to prove her point.

"Riiiight**," **he drawled, "That's your story and you're sticking to it."

She smiled shyly and ducked her head, looking at him through lowered lashes. "Maybe I just wanted to see if your hair was a soft as it looked."

Their eyes locked and for a moment neither was able or willing to look away. They looked deep into each other's blue orbs, both looking for something that neither of them was able to name. Surprisingly, it was Cameron who looked away first and broke the tension.

"You're soup is getting cold," she said fussing with the tray to cover her nervousness.

"Chicken and Stars?"

"House, you have 10 cans of Campbell's soup and they're all Chicken and Stars," she laughed, helping him into a sitting position and fluffing his pillows.

"I happen to like Chicken and Stars," he replied petulantly, jutting out his lower lip for dramatic effect.

Cameron was struck by the fact that he really was just a little boy with the body of a man and a brain of a genius. _My heart really knows how to pick 'em. _Shaking her head she placed the tray on his lap, careful not to bump his bad thigh.

"Eat," she ordered walking over to the pile of movies she had placed there earlier. She picked one and put it in the player. When the opening credits for There's Something About Mary started playing, she turned back and saw House staring into his soup as if he expected something to come crawling out of it.

"What's the matter?"

He looked up, his face contorted into a strange grimace.

"What?"

"You sure you didn't lace this with arsenic?"

Cameron rolled her eyes and plopped down in the overstuffed easy chair by the window, preparing to watch the movie. "House, just shut up and eat."


End file.
